


Sticks and Stones

by AutisticWriter



Series: Autistic Headcanons [26]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Ableism, Ableist Language, Angst, Autism, Autism Spectrum, Autistic Doctor, Autistic Fifth Doctor, Crying, Established Relationship, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Guilt, Implied/Referenced ABA, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Male-Female Friendship, Multi, Nonverbal Communication, One Shot, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Shutdowns, Slurs, Trust Issues, abusive therapy, r-slur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 17:37:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10769151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutisticWriter/pseuds/AutisticWriter
Summary: Words have more power than a lot of people can ever understand. Tegan and Turlough find this out the hard way.





	Sticks and Stones

He was certain Turlough didn’t mean anything by it. He knew he didn’t mean to hurt him. But, undeniably, his choice of words hurt the Doctor in ways even he struggled to understand.

The Doctor had parked the TARDIS on one of their favourite planets (a small, luscious planet populated only by fascinating plants and small animals), and he, Tegan and Turlough were sat in their favourite spot: on the bank of a huge, clear lake.

Over the course of the afternoon, Tegan and Turlough sunbathed, argued, explored and even swam in the lake (Turlough didn’t have any swimming trunks, but, considering he went in nude, this fact obviously didn’t bother him – and it didn’t bother the Doctor either), whilst the Doctor sat and read, occasionally joining in their conversations when they started bickering too loudly.

At one point, the Doctor had been lying on his back with his hat over his eyes, trying to sleep, when Turlough lay down beside him. His companion, who had recently become his partner (well, he assumed he was, because why else would they kiss each other and sleep in the same bed?) had only just got redressed, and his hair was still wet from swimming in the lake. Turlough’s damp hair touched his forehead as he kissed the Doctor, who smiled, but didn’t take the hat off of his face. He fell asleep with Turlough snuggled up beside him.

So, basically, it had been a calm, relaxing day, and the Doctor felt rather content.

Until a single word changed all of that.

Tegan and Turlough were talking about something or other; the Doctor wasn’t really listening, but he knew from their laughter and frantic speech that they must have been talking about something amusing, recounting an anecdote, perhaps.

But he still heard when Turlough laughed and said, “What a retard...”

The Doctor froze.

He just sat there, staring straight ahead, barely able to process what had just happened. All he could hear was Turlough laughing as he said ‘retard,’ and it seemed to echo around his head over and over again.

_“Are you an idiot, boy?”_

_“Just speak. Don’t be stupid about it.”_

_“Eyes! Come on, look at my eyes. It’s not difficult.”_

Images flashed through his mind, of his hands strapped to a chair, an adult staring down at him, their face big and scary and imposing, their voice horribly loud as they forced him to make eye contact, using _that word_ to express their irritation when he disobeyed their commands. And the terror and panic that he felt as they shut him in a cupboard for not doing as he was told.

_“Retard.”_

Everything was going numb. His vision was clouding, his hearing dulling, his fingers and toes tingling as his body started to shut down. His hearts were pounding, panic gripping at his chest.

_Humans call autistic humans retards. They demonise them just for being different. They torture them in the name of fitting in. They might seem progressive, but they are just the same as we are._

“Are you all right, Doctor?” Tegan asked, looking over at him.

The Doctor didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure how to.

“Doctor?” That was Turlough, and the Doctor wouldn’t have been able to bring himself to talk to him even if he could speak.

_“Retard.”_

He got to his feet, not responding to their questions, and walked back to the TARDIS. His feet kept catching on the uneven ground, but he barely felt it. He felt dazed, as though he had suffered a blow to the head.

“Doctor!”

“Where’re you going?”

“What’s the matter, Doctor?”

_“Retard.”_

He fumbled with the key, but managed to get inside the TARDIS. The Doctor wasn’t thinking about where he was going, but he somehow ended up in his room. He felt a bit calmer – a bit safer – in here, but that wasn’t enough to bring him out of this state.

He locked the door and sank to the ground. He shuffled so his back was pressed against the wall and tucked his knees up to his chest. Everything was numb and distorted as he rested his forehead on his knees and let himself sob.

_“Retard.”_

_I know it is a favourite word on_ _Gallifrey,_ _and that humans use it a lot too. But Turlough isn’t human or_ _Gallifreyan. So where did he even learn that word? Does every species in the universe use that word to label and abuse the people they consider inferior?_

His hearts were racing until he could hear them palpitating in his ears. The Doctor hugged his legs tight to his chest and began to rock, but the motion wouldn’t calm the rising panic. He wanted to flap his hands, but he couldn’t work out how to coordinate his hands to do it. Nothing was working properly.

_“Retard.”_

More images, this time of the other children, the normal children, the children who weren’t forced through hours of ‘therapy’ to try and make them act normal. Of his ‘friend’ hitting him when no one else could see, of children crowding around him and laughing when their loud voices made him cry, of the taunts and snide remarks and laughter when he fell over and walked into things and his arms flapped when he ran. Of how they all hated him when he hadn’t done anything wrong.

_“You’re such a retard.”_

_“No one likes you.”_

_“Go away. I don’t want to play with a retard like you.”_

He felt sick, his abdomen seeming to churn, and he wasn’t sure why. Tears dribbled down his face, his breathing shuddering as he sobbed. Crying hurt his throat, but he couldn’t stop.

He couldn’t do anything.

The Doctor knew he was having a shutdown, and if there was only thing he knew about them it would be that he couldn’t stop them. They were horrible and scary and weird, but he knew he would just have to wait for it to stop.

Although he wasn’t sure if he wanted to confront the others when it did.

\---

Tegan and Turlough hurried along together as they ran back to the TARDIS. Tegan was extremely confused; one minute, the Doctor had been fine... and the next, he’d zoned out and looked terrified, before walking off without telling them what the problem was.

“What’s wrong with him?” she said, more to herself than Turlough.

“I don’t know!” He snapped, but Tegan could see the concern written on his face.

They reached the TARDIS and walked straight in; the Doctor had left the door open, something he wouldn’t normally do. Not knowing where the Doctor was, Tegan decided to check the place he usually went to when he wanted to be alone: his bedroom. Turlough didn’t say anything, but followed her.

She tried to open the door, but it was locked. Instead, Tegan knocked on the door. “Doctor?”

She knew he was in there (she could hear his heavy breathing), but the Doctor didn’t answer her.

“Doctor?” she said, a bit louder this time.

Again, he didn’t respond.

“Doctor!” Turlough said, banging his hand against the door. It must have hurt, but Turlough didn’t react. “Please talk to us!”

“What’s the matter, Doctor?” Tegan added. “We can’t help unless we know what’s wrong.”

Her concern was audible in her voice, but she still got no answer. Sighing, Tegan pressed her ear against the door. After swatting at Turlough to get him to shut up, Tegan was able to hear the Doctor making what sounded like whimpering noises.

She turned to Turlough, and tried to keep the panic out of her voice as she said, “I think he’s crying.”

“Crying? The Doctor?” Turlough said, frowning in confusion.

Tegan knew why he was confused, because this was the Doctor they were talking about; he was normally so cheerful and happy that it was downright disturbing to think about him crying. She nodded, and Turlough suddenly looked distressed.

“Why’s he upset?” he said, his voice thickening.

“I don’t know,” Tegan said, resisting the urge to snap like he had done to her. “Doctor! Please talk to us. We want to help you. Please.”

“Please, Doctor...”

But no matter how much they yelled and pleaded, the Doctor didn’t answer them, let alone open the door. No, he just continued to cry, the door blocking Tegan and Turlough from his distress. And that made Tegan feel dreadful, because she didn’t want to just sit there for however long while she knew the Doctor was sobbing in another room. And if he didn’t tell them what was wrong, how on Earth were they meant to help him?

\---

As though a button had just been pressed inside his head, the Doctor felt the numbness start to lift. His shutdown was obviously over, but he didn’t feel much better for it. He was achy and stiff, and his eyes were sore and swollen from crying. But that was to be expected, given what had just happened.

As per usual, the Doctor found himself nonverbal. After all shutdowns, and some meltdowns, he always found it very difficult to get his mouth to say the words his brain wanted to. So difficult, in fact, that he knew he couldn’t speak at all. It would probably be hours before his speech returned; this didn’t bother him, because he was used to it and he had ways to communicate without speaking, but it often proved a problem when the people he was with didn’t understand.

For example, he knew a fair amount of sign language (several human types and many from other races all across the galaxy), but he was certain Turlough and Tegan didn’t. Teaching them some sign language had been on his ‘to do’ list, and he rather wished he had done it now; it certainly would have made what was about to happen easier. Still, he had other ways to communicate without speaking, and he just hoped the others would understand.

And then the Doctor remembered what had caused him to shutdown in the first place, and his heart rate almost doubled. He thought about Turlough, and how he wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to trust him anymore – and especially how he hoped Turlough would understand when he told him about why his choice of words caused such a reaction.

Because that was what he was going to have to do. He didn’t like it – talking (or in this case writing) about his past was going to be stressful and uncomfortable and the last thing he needed right now – but the Doctor knew he needed to tell Turlough exactly what happened to him. If for no other reason than to stop this happening again.

\---

When they heard the Doctor’s footsteps, Tegan and Turlough both jumped to their feet so quickly they almost fell over.

The Doctor entered the room, and, the moment she saw him, Tegan wanted to cry. The Doctor was really pale and washed out, but his eyes were red and swollen from crying. He had his head bowed, his hands clenched into loose fists by his sides, his shoulders hunched and his whole body tense. Basically, he looked dreadful.

“Doctor!” they both cried at the same time, rushing towards him. “Are you all right?”

The Doctor flinched at their loud voices (Tegan certainly hadn’t meant to be that loud), and pressed his hands against his ears. Tegan saw the problem instantly, and she and Turlough immediately stopped speaking. Nodding his head, the Doctor removed his hands from his ears. Tegan wanted to kick herself for forgetting about the Doctor’s sensitive ears.

“Sorry,” she said, and Turlough added his own apology. “But, are you all right?”

The Doctor said nothing, but he made his way over to one of the many monitors and sat down in front of it. And then he started to type on the keyboard, and the words appeared onscreen.

 **I can’t speak.** He typed. **I have had a shutdown and I’m still nonverbal. I’m really sensitive to touch, so please don’t touch me. It’ll hurt and might make me shutdown again.**

Tegan and Turlough looked at each other; Tegan saw Turlough look like he wanted to give the Doctor a hug. She wasn’t as well educated about autism as she would have liked, but Tegan knew what shutdowns were; from what the Doctor had told her, they were weird and horrible and just downright unpleasant to go through. Turlough must have been thinking the same thing, because he sighed.

“Are you feeling any better now?” she asked.

**Not really, although I can think properly again. Thank you for asking.**

“That’s good, I guess. Why’d you shutdown, Doctor?” Tegan said, because she knew they didn’t just come out of nowhere. Something must have caused it.

**Turlough, you said something that made me panic. It gave me flashbacks and then I had a shutdown.**

“What did I say?” Turlough said, and he sounded confused rather than defensive.

Tegan watched the Doctor take a deep breath, as though mentally preparing himself, before he resumed typing.

**You said retard.**

Tegan glanced at Turlough.

“Yeah... yeah I did,” Turlough said slowly. “Why did that upset you?”

**That word**

Abruptly, the Doctor stopped typing, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. Tegan watched him swallow hard, his bottom lip wobbling. He was obviously trying not to break down. Tegan wanted to give him a hug, but she knew he didn’t want any physical contact.

“That word...” Turlough said, prompting him. He looked as torn as Tegan felt; in fact, he probably felt a lot worse, considering this was his boyfriend looking so upset.

After a minute or so, the Doctor started to type again.

**That word hurts me. It makes me panic and gives me flashbacks whenever I hear it. It’s what humans call a trigger, because it triggers a horrible reaction and makes you feel dreadful.**

“Wh-Why does it trigger you like that?” Tegan asked, not sure she actually wanted to hear the answer.

The Doctor began to chew his lip, and his fingers trembled as he started typing.

**When I was a child, I was called that word on a daily basis. From the people who gave me ‘therapy’, to my family, to my peers. They all used it to ridicule me, to dismiss my skills, to take away my personhood. It is the fate of anyone diagnosed with autism to be treated as an inferior and abused in the name of making them ‘normal’. Except all it does is make them hate themself and give them Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.**

Tegan wanted to say something, but she didn’t know what. Turlough was just staring at the screen with wide, horrified eyes.

**And to this day, hearing that word in any context makes me panic. I feel like I’m back in a ‘therapy’ session, being called that because I wouldn’t do their pointless and often painful tasks. I get flashbacks and have a panic attack, which sends me into a shutdown. Which is what happened earlier.**

The Doctor sighed and clasped his hands together. Tegan just stared at the screen, reading the Doctor’s words over and over again. She felt a bit sick. This was so horrible. Beside her, Turlough was staring at the Doctor, watching his hands shake whilst he looked like he wanted to throw up.

**Do you understand now why I reacted that way?**

They both nodded, Tegan so sharply it hurt her head.

“Yeah, yeah, of course we understand,” she said.

“It makes perfect sense,” Turlough added, and his voice was far weaker than normal. He paused, before swallowing hard and adding, “Doctor, I’m so sorry. I... I’m just so sorry. I never should’ve said that. I had no idea... please forgive me.”

Tegan watched the Doctor sigh and close his eyes, before opening them and starting to type.

**I accept your apology, Turlough. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. But I’m not sure I’m ready to forgive you.**

Turlough sighed and bowed his head. “I... I understand. I mean, I don’t want to push you to do something you don’t want to do. I just...” he trailed off, obviously not knowing what to say.

**I don’t hate you. I know you made a mistake, and everyone makes mistakes. I just don’t know if I can forgive you just yet. But I don’t hate you at all.**

Turlough smiled, and let out a weak chuckle that sounded suspiciously like a sob. “Thanks.”

“And thanks for telling us about your past, Doctor,” Tegan said, smiling too. “I know how hard that must have been for you.”

**Thank you.**

“I know you don’t want to be touched, Doctor,” Turlough said. “But can I sit with you? You know, just next to you, not touching you.”

The Doctor turned his chair around, and glanced at Turlough. As always, he avoided eye contact, but he obviously still saw the agonised look on Turlough’s face. And then, slowly, he nodded his head.

Turlough smiled, clearly glad that the Doctor was being true to his word, that he didn’t hate him. And he pulled up a chair and sat down next to the Doctor, who was staring intently at his hands.

“Thanks,” Turlough said, and the Doctor nodded his head.

As she watched the pair sit together in silence, Tegan knew it was going to take a long time for the Doctor to trust Turlough again. But she also knew the Doctor, and she was certain he would gradually begin to rebuild his trust in Turlough – but only if Turlough never said that word again.


End file.
